Meet the Parents
by Chasing-Blibbering-Humdingers
Summary: A few weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, Neville goes to St. Mungo's to visit his parents for the first time since the battle. But he's not alone. Neville/Luna.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Takes place a few weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts. Follows book canon except mentions a line Dumbledore said in the PoA movie. I've been meaning to upload this story for a long time, and I'll hopefully be able to finish it soon. As always, I own nothing of JK Rowling's magical world and her characters. Hope you enjoy it, and comments/ critiques are always welcomed!**

The streets of London were teeming with life. They boasted workers and merchants, shoppers and lay a-bouts and even beggars. The diversity was just as strange, just as fantastic as anywhere else. Everyday there walked people capable of great good and those capable of great evil.

Now, on a warm summer day our story begins, away from all this yet in the center of it all. Alleyways: the underbellies of the city, hidden in plain sight. Passerby on this specific day cast only a few unfocused glances down them, and were practically oblivious to the small sounds emanating from them. But had one been alert enough, they might have heard a small _pop. _And had they been curious enough, they wouldn't have dismissed it as a sigh of the wind, or their imagination. Above all else, had they been learned in the magical arts, their ears (after the recent war) would still be trained to listen for that sound, knowing what it meant, and the dangers it posed. Someone had apparated in the near vicinity, but not a single person was in sight. Now one might have also assumed that the air apparently rippling and quivering before them was just an illusion caused by the sweltering heat that summer day.

That is, until a young man suddenly appeared in that exact spot. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the shadows.

Neville Longbottom had a round, kind sort of face. And had you seen him but a year before, there would have been an air of nervousness and uncertainty about him (which had begun dissipating over the course of the previous two years). This was now replaced by two things. First, he seemed to give off self confidence (which used to be a foreign concept for him). Second, he now had the look of one who had been through so much in so little time. He wasn't even eighteen years old, but in the past year so much had changed-for the good, and for the bad. Some fading scars, his souvenirs of the war, were displayed across his face. His hair, overlong for so many months, was now cropped shorter. All together, he looked as if he had gained back his health after many months of sketchy living conditions. But no matter how well-groomed or well-fed he was, it couldn't detract from the look of knowing in his eyes; knowing of the true horrors of war.

Pausing for a moment, Neville surveyed his surroundings. Disillusionment charm gone, he still seemed invisible to the passing people. Good to know he had mastered wearing Muggle clothing. Also good to know that after being a war hero he would still continue to be ignored and overlooked. Some things never change.

But these things didn't matter to him. In the past few weeks he had actually had unnatural amounts of attention from people: the press, his grandmother…_women. _(Honestly, you chop off one snake's head and suddenly you're one of the most desired men in the Wizarding World!) To some he also seemed a god. An angel who had looked the devil in the eye and told him he wouldn't join him until his fiery kingdom of Hell froze over. All the attention made him uncomfortable, especially when a Hufflepuff girl he hardly knew (what was her name? Hannah?) kept insisting the two of them were 'soul mates.' In times like this he often found himself in Luna's company; sitting in her newly-repaired bedroom, listening to her tell him about Crumple-Horned Humdingers or whatever they were called. She was so passionate when she talked about the creatures that he couldn't help but admire her. He could forget the pressures and the attention and the haunting memories when he was with her.

Despite all the sudden fame, he only longed for the attention of two people. The two people who had created him, yet they didn't even remember his name. Going to see them now took too much strength, knowing it would crush the dreams he kept telling himself not to have. How many times had the scenario played through his mind anyway? Where he came home to two normal parents, both of their faces lit with pride and recognition at their son?

Was the sun shining to mock him? Did its rays feebly try to penetrate to his innermost self and warm his core, or did it shine because of the contrast? The contrast of the sun's heat to the cold he felt himself?

He wished he was in the Hogwarts' greenhouses, collecting Bubotuber pus or repotting mandrakes. _Plants are so much simpler than humans_, he thought. Godric damn it. He was Neville Longbottom, co-leader of a rebellion and slayer of Nagini, and here he was thinking about his _feelings _and _tending to plants._ Merlin, would that look good in the history books.

Disregarding that thought, he considered that perhaps the sun was in fact there to soothe him; to dry his tear-stained cheeks. Instinctively he reached a hand to his face to wipe away the tears when a new thought hit him. The sun…the light…what was it Dumbledore had said third year? Ah yes. "Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, is one only remembers to turn on the light." But…how would he do that? What was his 'light' and what was its source?

Suddenly a high, dreamy voice spoke out behind him, disturbing his thoughts.

"You know, you really are getting quite good at Disillusionment Charms, Neville."

He jumped slightly. Luna.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is a pretty short chapter, but I hope you still enjoy it! I generally write a few, longer chaptered stories, but this one seems to work best with many, shorter ones. As always, I own nothing. All JK Rowling's genius.**

His heart rate returning to normal, Neville turned and looked at Luna, who was now approaching him.

Odd as she may seem to others, he couldn't help but think she had such a natural beauty about her. Her long and wavy blonde hair hung loosely about her and framed her face with unintentional grace. Sometimes he wondered why she wasn't a Gryffindor, with her lion-like mane symbolizing the bravery within. But he supposed that her use of intellect during times of need and her consistent reminders that "_wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_" proved she was a Ravenclaw at heart. To add to her house pride, it seemed she had abandoned her usual radish earrings and adorned what looked like the large clawed feet from the eagle hat she wore to Ravenclaw Quidditch games. The talons of an eagle suspended in a lion's mane. Even though her earrings had changed she still had a necklace of butterbeer corks strung from her neck. Her misty blue eyes were as protrubent as ever, and, while Neville's eyes had recently acquired a look of knowing, hers always had. She was so…accustomed to death and suffering, and a being of resilience. Even after being held captive for months she was practically unaffected. If Neville was sure of one thing, it was that Luna Lovegood had a different outlook on life.

"Luna," he breathed. He had mentioned it to her in passing that she oculd come with him, but he had never received a straightforward reply. "I wasn't sure if you were coming. I mean, I didn't see you anywhere. How long have you been here?"

"Of course I came, Neville," she replied, her fingers playing absentmindedly with a butterbeer cork. "I enjoy being with you. It's like having friends. Oh and I've been here quite a while, waiting for you. And then when you did show up, you seemed to be deep in thought ad I didn't want to disturb you. Finally I decided I shouldn't leave you vulnerable to Wrackspurt infestations like that." She was staring intently into his eyes now. "I also thought that we should get going as soon as possible, because, as Daddy always says, the early explorer catches the Crumple-Horned Snorcack." She smiled slightly.

Neville shook his head, trying to force back his laughter. "Luna, I thought it was clear by now that we are friends," he said.

"I did think so, but you must never take your friends for granted," she replied serenely. "And now that you've consented, we can both say that we are friends without some accidental forwardness."

"Right," he said slowly. "But…I was thinking, like you were saying, and…Merlin, I don't know. It's just strange, that after everything that's happened, and how everything has changed…my parents will still be the same, in that hospital, even after the person who put them there is dead." He paused, throat constricted from a sudden rush of emotions. "Just…thanks for being here, Luna. It…It means a lot." He felt heat rising in his face and stared at his feet.

Just then, he felt a smaller, gentle hand enclose itself in his, lacing their fingers together. Neville stared from their entwined hands to Luna's face, who smiled reassuringly and squeezed his hand in hers. He felt his face redden more, but didn't let go. It felt right, somehow. Remarkable, really, how well their hands fit together, as if molded for each other; like they were made to hold each other's.

So it was with unspoken, mutual consent that they began walking down the street together, hand in hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! It really motivates me to update, and makes my day every time! Sorry it's taken me a while. So here's Chapter 3, and Chapter 4 will hopefully be up soon. As always, I own nothing. Thank you, JK Rowling, for the characters that changed my life. :)**

It only occurred to him, after walking about a block, that he had no idea where they were going. He had always taken Muggle transportation with Gran (she had never thought Neville would be able to stomach apparating when he was younger) and the street they were on now looked unfamiliar. With his free hand he searched his pocket. He had remembered the map, right?

Nope.

Luna, who had been staring at the clouds, now looked mildly interested. "You can't find something," she stated. "I believe you're looking for a map."

He turned and looked at her, puzzled. "How'd you know I was looking for a map?"

"Well, I was examining one earlier-I have one in my pocket, you see- and I noticed that we're going in the wrong direction."

Neville sighed, but couldn't help laughing all the same. "Couldn't have mentioned you had a map earlier, could you? And why didn't you say we were going the wrong way?"

"I thought perhaps we were taking a more scenic route." She paused. "Sometimes the journey is more pleasurable than the destination, and you don't want to miss possible adventures along the way."

"Very astute, Luna. Now will you get that map out?" He grinned.

The alleyway they had apparated into earlier was many blocks away from St. Mungo's. They knew that the street wasn't generally very crowded, and it was still a few hours before rush hour. So, they were working their way towards busier streets until they reached the run-down shop Purge and Dowe's-the façade for 's.

But now they still waded through the streams of passing people as they worked into the busier streets. They held Luna's map in front of them, each of them holding a side with their free hand. They made many wrong turns, and had to find their way back again. Once, they were so immersed in figuring out where they were that they walked into a wall. After the collision they both turned and looked at each other before bursting out laughing. Neville imagined they must have looked like idiotic tourists. He found he didn't care.

A while ago, he would have flushed with embarrassment and would have liked nothing more than to curl up in a hole and die. A while ago he would have spluttered awkwardly if Luna had held his hand. But that was Luna's affect on him. Over time she was teaching him to let go of his worrying about what others thought of him. They had both been the underdogs-no sense denying it. However, she had basked in it, oblivious to the insults or snide remarks thrown her way. _No, _Neville thought. _Perhaps oblivious was the wrong word. _Luna was quite aware of the bullying, as they often resorted to stealing her possessions. It was more like Luna didn't realize that she should feel hurt or insulted in the first place. She lived in her own world, he sometimes thought. Yet she perceived this world clearer, perhaps, than anyone firmly rooted in it. Luna possessed a key to living contentedly which others sought for all their life: she didn't give a damn about others opinions of her.

So now here he was, learning to laugh at himself and his blunders, rather than be ashamed. It was so freeing, somehow. As for the hand holding, though, what in Merlin's name had prepared him, changed him for that? Laughing at yourself (_or even being put under the Cruciatus Curse, _he thought) couldn't prepare him for _that. _For holding hands with Luna bloody Lovegood. Was it a regular friendly and comforting gesture? He didn't think so, not anymore, now that it had been more than ten minutes. But did he think of Luna as more than a friend? He wasn't sure. Everything was unclear in his mind. He glanced over at Luna as they walked, observing how the sunlight reflected off of it beautifully, making it shine and glimmer as she walked, and lost himself in memories.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I own nothing, as always. **

**This chapter was interesting to write, as it's all memories of Neville's. Hope you like it! :)**

It was the beginning of Fifth year, on the Hogwarts express. He, Harry and Ginny sat in a compartment with a strange girl reading her magazine upside down. He remembered willing the girl to look away from him as she stared at him with an icy blue gaze. An uncomfortable silence fell over them, and the girl was the center of it all. Some even called her Loony, _not a good sign. _He was sure she was insane.

* * *

A few months later, he was talking with her after a DA meeting. Even in a small band of rebels they were outcasts. They attracted each other like magnets. At first he had found her oddness rather frightening, but that had been wearing off for a long time now. It was almost endearing, rather than disturbing. She did not bend her beliefs to please others, and spoke her opinion. It was rather inspiring to him.

When departing from the Room of Requirement, she bade him good night and told him, rather nonchalantly, that he was a good friend. Strange as she was, he felt inexplicably happy at being dubbed her friend.

* * *

Now it was right before the Christmas holidays fifth year. Going back home would be a relief after chafing under Umbrige's domain for so long, but it also meant temporary goodbyes and a hiatus on D.A meetings. Luna wished him a happy Christmas and said she would miss him, and he returned the phrase, surprised by just how much he'd meant it.

* * *

He remembered being with her after the Ministry fiasco. Though she had been knocked out and blasted across a room, she was as good natured as ever.

Being through something like that, he had found enduring strength and lifelong bonds formed with the five others. Maybe they were just teenagers, but they could still fight to save the world.

* * *

Sixth year. Missing the D.A. meetings, he and Luna found solace in each other. They wouldwalk around the grounds, or sit by the lake and talk the hours away. Sometimes Ginny would join them, but she mad much more of a social life than either of them.

One day as they sat by the lake, Neville told Luna about his parents' fate. It was the first time he had informed a friend out of his own will. She hadn't stood there, staring blankly and at loss for words, as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had. Luna simply nodded, her protrubent eyes full of understanding. Then she said something he would never forget.

"They're still with you."

"What" he asked.

"Your parents. They're still with you, I know they are. Like my mum is with me."

"Luna, your mum's-"  
"I know my mother's dead, Neville. I was there." Her voice wasn't accusing or bitter, but more matter-of fact. "But she's still with me, in spirit. And I know- just as I know that shooting stars are just flying heliopaths gliding through the heavens- that your parents are still with you, in a way, and they're proud of you." She stared serenely out into the distance over the lake. There was a long pause before she added "After all, since death can't stop the ones we love from being with us, then why should life?"

Neville hadn't believed her, for the most part. A small part of his brain hoped and willed for it to be true. Nevertheless, her words were still so comforting, whether he believed them or not. He had felt his throat constrict as he thought about what she had said. Then he smiled slightly, looking out over the lake as well, lost in thought, affection, and a comfortable silence which had fallen over the pair of them.

* * *

He had still been injured the day of Dumbledore's funeral, after battling the death eaters that had laid siege to the school. Neville remembered Luna helping and sitting with him; her touch gentle, her presence soothing.

* * *

Suddenly, his mind sped ahead to a heart-stopping memory. It was right before the holidays, seventh year. He, Ginny and Luna were riding in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, all looking worse for the wear. They were flushed with their success in the reformed D.A. that term. Scrapes and bruises were apparent on their skin, but they felt like trophies rather than burdens; reminders of their resistance. Earlier they had discussed plans for the D.A for the next term, and spells to read up on, but now everything was silent. Luna was reading an article in _The Quibbler _about what Harry, Ron, and Hermione could be doing on their mysterious mission. Suddenly, the train had stopped, causing luggage to lurch precariously in their racks. Everyone looked around, confused and in disbelief. Some looked out windows. _Surely they hadn't reached King's Cross yet? _

They hadn't. Masked figures they immediately recognized as Death Eater's were striding through the corridors, slamming open compartment doors and barking orders at students. Before they had time to act or think at all, the Death Eaters had raided their compartment. Neville and Ginny used all of their willpower not to act and challenge the Death Eaters. Luna had flashed them a warning look, clearly telling them not to make a move. They were outnumbered, and Neville and Ginny would only get themselves harmed if they did anything. One of the brutish Death Eaters struck Luna hard across the face, and Neville felt rage course through him, but maintained control, albeit grudgingly. They snapped Luna's wand, and was incarcerated before being dragged forcefully by her hair out of the compartment. Her face looked resigned, and almost slightly bored, as though she had been expecting a more dramatic kidnapping. Neville and Ginny gasped in air more and more urgently after each breath, as they couldn't seem to get enough into their lungs. It was as if Devil's Snare was squeezing the life out of him; everything was blurry from tears.

The rest of the journey to Platform Nine and Three Quarters had been very silent as they stared at the upturned Quibbler on the seat.

This memory faded into a crevice in his mind again, waiting to haunt him once more.

* * *

He remembered Luna climbing into the Room of Requirement with grace, smiling around at everyone, her eyes lingering on his.

She was back. She was safe. They might be walking into hell, but at least Luna was by his side. He didn't know why this comforted him so much.

* * *

Now he was running and leaping over blurred rubble and bodies on the ground. Hogwarts, his home, was now a war-zone. Spells were flying, and yells and screams echoed through the hallways. He saw a chunk of wall with some D.A graffiti on the ground. In purple letters (now fading, and a few letters missing), it read "_Dumbledore's Army: A pain in the arse to gits like you since 1995." That's funny_, he had thought._ We wrote that outside Amycus Carrow's office. That's halfway across the castle from here. _A hex suddenly zoomed inches from his face, and snapped him to his senses. He noticed some D.A members fighting nearby. He had seen snatches of all of them at some point as he had run around with deadly magical plants (_and Gran once said Herbology was a useless subject, _he thought_) _and he felt responsible for it all. Every hex, every curse aimed at one of the D.A. members was an axe stroke to his side, his burden to carry. He finally knew how Harry must have felt, why Harry hadn't wanted them to go to the Ministry of Magic fifth year. Gran had always told him to be more like Harry Potter; now he wasn't envious in the least bit. And as he began to duel yet another nameless Death Eater, three things comforted him. One: the image of his parents, normal, laughing, and smiling, burned into the back of his mind. The image was from a photograph taken before he was born. He had kept it in his trunk since first year. Two: Gran's letter she had sent when on the run was in his pocket, the words playing through his mind. Three: the thought, somewhere in this castle, Luna was no longer a prisoner, and she was fighting too.


End file.
